You Know I Ain't A Prayin' Man
by evo350
Summary: 500 years and a million miles separate them, but what happens when the crews that need each other come together? Rated M for violence (so far that's all I have for a "M" rating. Stories evolve. Input welcome.) Read and Review! I'm starting with The Walking Dead after season 2. Before the prison.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: These characters are not mine nor do I profit from this.**

**Also, I don't have a beta. All mistakes are mine mine mine. :)**

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_Lord, _Rick started his prayer as the tree line filled with walkers, _I ask for your forgiveness and the protection of my family…_

"Daryl," Lori yelled knowing they needed all gun hands on deck.

"Oh god there's too many of them," Carol almost looked to be welcoming death. The stability of the farm house had kept her grounded after finding her little girl, Sophia, in the barn with all the other captured walkers they hadn't known about when they decided to stay at the farm in the first place. Now they were vagrants, nomads in a world of death.

"We've fought worse," Daryl came striding up and loaded his cross-bow.

_Please let them not come to harm on this day, if it is your will, Lord. _

Rick checked his gun; one in the chamber and a full clip, two clips in reserve, and a knife he'd miraculously recovered from Shane's body. Carol held an ax in a wide grip, Lori held her pistol and strapped a shotgun to her back, Glen carried a hatchet and a rather large dagger that had been in the Hershel family for a few generations. Glen pushed Maggie behind him – she could only muster an amused smile at the protective gesture as she was carrying a double barrel shotgun. If anybody was doing the protecting it was her. Rick, Daryl, and Herschel were armed to the teeth and Carl brought up the rear, pinned between the protective arc of the family and the cabin behind them.

_Forgive me, Father, for the sins I am about to commit. _

The walkers inched closer, stumbling and convulsing nearer with each twitch and faltering step. It wasn't until they caught the full scent of living flesh that their synapses fired together and they became a little more coordinated. Then they were a formidable enemy. Looking over them, it was hard to imagine that this mindless herd of undead was any sort of threat – but every person in the arc knew better. A business woman and a man in mechanic's overalls reached a thin wire fence that skirted the perimeter first. They would all get caught on it, but they'd continue trying to walk until they eventually fell over it. While these walkers were the ultimate enemy, it was so easy in these moments when they were slowly approaching, to see how they'd been in life before the infection. The business woman, though her perfectly tailored suit had been ripped and blood stained and though the heels had broken off her obviously shoes – had come from money. The day she was infected, she'd probably been at the office merging offers or closing deals, waiting to go home to her pristine house and wait for her huband to come home from golfing. She's never make it home. Neither would her husband probably. The mechanic was the first to make it over the fence and as he caught the smell of them on the wind, his eyes dilated and his muscles tensed for the impending attack. Adrenaline replaced what malnutrition had robbed from his body and he sprinted as his very life depended on it. Blood, blood would make the throbbing in his head disappear. Needed blood.

An arrow stopped the pain first.

The walkers rushed the fence in a frenzy once the wind shifted and drew the living scent over the entire opening. Gun blasts erupted and sprays of blood rained on the falling bodies. Rick counted the rounds of ammo he knew everyone to have – there were more walkers than there were bullets.

_Please deliver me from this evil. _

They hadn't seen her like this in weeks. Mal watched as River remained in her catatonic state. It wasn't coma, it wasn't death, but it wasn't right. Even Jayne had taken to walking by to see how their Reaver-killer was doing.

Not great.

"Doc," Mal clamped a hand on Simon's shoulder. In the weeks since Miranda, the Doc sure had been getting his fair share of exercise, he was bulking up quite nicely, Mal noticed, "she'll be alright. We never know what she sees, but she usually tells us in time to save our _pi gus_." He tried to give a reassuring smile, but it was despairing to see River like this.

"Let's hope," Simon sighed as he stared at his precious _mei mei _– little sister. Her hands clutched the sheet, but they didn't let the sheet drape over her. Her arms were stiff and elbows bent at 90 degree angles so the sheet lifted from her body. She'd been like that for two days now. He neck twisted and her jaw was clamped in an awkward scowl.

_Lord, if you're up there, somewhere,_ Mal almost waved his hand in a dismissive wave, _now, you know I ain't a prayin' man – or a good man, but this little girl is precious to me and mine and I'd take it as a real kindness if you'd help her or somethin'_

"Mal," Zoe pierced over the comm. "to the bridge. Now!"

Mal's heart fluttered with adrenaline as his feet pounded up the metal stairs. When Zoe sounded frantic, you panicked. He climbed from the infirmary to the hall, up onto the bridge. Hands instinctively raising to her small yet tell-tale bump of a belly, she used her other hand to indicate the radar.

"There's no core-containment, they're bearing down on us too fast for us to outrun for long."

"Reavers? Do they bug anybody else, or do they just have our number?"

_Lord,_ he didn't have any words for the Big Man right now.

"Can we make Beaumonde?"

"No, but there's a little moon, just here," she pointed to a different monitor, "Terra-forming took but the atmosphere is a little bit too thin. If we land on the dark side we'll freeze to death before the Reavers get us. We'll have to land as far west on the sunlight as we can so we have as much daylight as possible, and we'll have to be off before we reach the dark side."

"Let me guess, it gets worse."

"The moon spins so fast that we'll go from light to dark in two hours."

_Lord, deliver me a miracle. A Big Damn Miracle, or this is it for us. _

"Tell Jayne and the others to prep."

Serenity banked like beauty and shifted into the thin atmosphere with the ease and grace that only someone who loved flying could perfect. Mal guided the transport ship to just a couple miles above the surface of the moon and picked his landing spot. Tufts of steam still rose from the rocks and dirt where the chill of the dark side was evaporating in the morning sun. Two hours. They needed to land and get this done.

"Mal," Zoe warned, "they're gaining. Fast."

They stood a chance if they were on the ground. He lowered Serenity behind a rock formation that provided a bit of cover, not as much as he'd like, but it'd have to do.

Jayne was armed. More heavily than normal and even though he looked like the mercenary from hell, Mal would have liked to seen him with more grenades. They didn't have River right now, the least the could have is grenades. The Reaver ship landed 40 meters away and blood painted doors peeled back to reveal Death itself.

_Lord, that Miracle could come at any time now…_


	2. Chapter 2

**STILL NOT MINE. STILL NOT BETA'D**

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Rick raised his knife to the walker and took a quick assessment of his surroundings. He was flanked by Herschel and Daryl, like planned. Lori and Carl were directly behind him. He heard their exhaustion with every swing of a blade or kick of a pistol, but they kept fighting. His knife hit its target and the air shifted. It seemed like a warm front, the kind that ripped through and cause tornados and violent storms – which was exactly the opposite of what they needed right now. He stepped and assessed his next target, but was distracted when his fenced in green field was replaced with a dusty valley.

Autopilot took over, and his knife landed when needed and he made note that Lori's pistol kept firing. Carl's pistol even cracked a few times so Rick pressed on. Even when he heard Carol scream, then Beth, he still pushed on. It wasn't until Lori's voice echoed off the valley walls in waves of agony that Rick lost his rhythm of killing.

"No, no, no," he ran over to her, downing two walkers on the way. "Lori."

"Oh god, Rick," she clutched his arm and he ripped the sleeve off of her shirt. The bite gashed her bicep and she was losing blood at an alarming rate.

"It's okay. When we down the walkers Herschel will come help. I'm gonna make you a tourniquet. Don't you close your eyes."

"It's too late it doesn't matter," her lips twitched at the corners.

"We don't know that."

Despair fed on looks like the one she was giving him now. The hope and anticipation she had for the future blackened under the hood of acceptance.

"Don't you give up," Rick shook her.

"Get her to the ship," a large man with a seemingly larger gun ran past him and shot two walkers that had been running toward them. When had the walkers turned into runners? They were so much more aggressive tonight. "Go!" the large man demanded and pointed behind them.

Rick remembered watching Mary Poppins as a child, and when they all jumped into the sidewalk paintings, he'd wondered what it'd be like to just switch worlds on a whim. That had to be what happened. A – _spaceship_ - sat before him on a world very different from Earth. The sun was half the size it should be and the ground was … spongy. He lifted Lori and summoned Carl to follow him to the bulbous spaceship.

"Dad, where are we? What happened?"

He shrugged. Which was smarter than anything that was going to come out of his mouth.

"Get her to the infirmary," a well dressed man ushered them across the bay of the ship.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the ships doctor. Is this her only wound?"

Rick nodded, mouth slacken and body tense.

"How far along is her pregnancy?"

He simply shrugged again.

"He's going into shock," the well-dressed man yelled at a greasy woman in overalls. "Get him on the sofa in there."

It was magic, watching them move. He'd seen some interesting things in his life, but people evaporating out of nothing – that was new.

"Mal," Inara knelt behind a rock with him, "they fear nothing. Are _they_ reavers too?"

"Don't seem to be."

They watched as the man with no sleeves dug a knife into a reaver's temple only to spin around and shoot another in the face. The short reddish haired girl ducked a blow to the head and caught that same reaver in the gut with her blade. They were obviously highly trained and very effective in the art of killing. Inara found herself very happy they were on her side. She also found herself unable to trust a single one of them.

"WOOO!" they heard Jayne's victory yell and looked back to see the reavers laying in a pool, an _ocean_ of blood. The old man sloshed through the blood to the pretty young blonde girl who'd gone and gotten bit.

"Beth," he held her up from the ground in his lap as he knelt next to her.

"Pa, pa!"

"Carol!" the sleeveless man ran to the other woman who'd been wounded.

"Daryl," she crumpled to sit on the ground and cried into her hands. The man named Daryl held her close and whispered something to her. He handed over an impressive looking pistol and she held it to her head.

"WOAH!" Mal jumped from behind the rock. "What in the hell is she doing?"

"Better this than putting the whole crew at risk later."

"Risk for what?"

"Turning into one of them," he pointed at a bloody reaver.

"Turning into.. wha… just cause they bite you?" the Captain was visibly confused.

"Daryl," a Chinese man added, "look around." They all noticed the iridescent canyon walls that glowed an eerie red, and the sun that hung awkwardly in the sky. They noticed the _spaceship_ and the crew of this new world looking at them just as incredulously.

"Where are we?" Daryl voiced the question first.

"Delta-84. Terra-forming didn't take like it was supposed to," Mal informed.

"Terra.. what?" Carol still had the gun to her head.

"Where are you guys from?"

"Georgia. Where are you from?"

"I moved from planet to planet as a kid. I don't like to claim just one. This," he motioned over his _ambassador, _"is Inara. She's from Sihnon. You ever been to Whitefall?"

"Whitefall?"

Mal and Inara exchanged confused looks. "Surely if you're from Georgia, you've heard of Whitefall. It's one of the moons."

"I don't get it," Beth was still sobbing, "the virus must be getting stronger. Please, pa, just let me die. Will you be the one to do it?"

"Ain't nobody dying. We got us a good doc."

"You have an anti-virus?" the redhead asked.

"Anti…?"

"What are these things?" Daryl asked and poked a dead body.

"Those are reavers. Are you sure you're from Georgia? You don't know a lot about it. That's reaver territory."

"Born and bred. You callin' me a liar?" Daryl charged toward the Captain.

"No. I'm just a little confused."

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," Carol finally admitted.

"It's 2518!" Lori lulled through the pain medication.

"Yeah," the man-named-Jayne bit through a piece of jerky the 'funny little Asian guy' handed him. "What year did'jyall think it was?"

"2014 by last count."

"You're from Earth-that-was?" Kaylee's eyes lit.

"No, they ain't from Earth that was," the Captain chimed in. "Now, I ain't never seen civilians fight like that. What is this? Some fancy Alliance trick to infiltrate our little operation here?"

"I say we leave 'em here and see if they can't do that magic disappear thing."

"They didn't _disappear, _ they appeared."

"Yeah but they disappeared from somewhere."

"That's right," Maggie strutted toe to toe with the large man and even though she strained to look up at him, her stance could have intimidated a reaver back into its place. "We _did_ come from somewhere. Let me tell you about that place. I watched my father lose his wife, my step-mother to another human. She became so ravaged by the disease that she turned into one of the _things_ and attacked us. Then I learned from Rick and his people that these were diseased monsters – they were the dead. And they were walking. You want to _leave us here and see if we can pull of some magic,_" she snarled, "we are not a little trick show for you and yours. We wouldn't go with you if our lives depended on it."

"Your lives _do_ depend on it. This rock is uninhabitable. You'll be dead within 15 minutes of nightfall. Captain," Zoe turned to Mal, "we need to take off."

"Get 'em off my ship," he nodded to Jayne. "Last time I let Alliance on my ship I almost lost my mechanic."

The uproar saved them. Kaylee, the soft mechanic, wailed and 'forbid killin' such nice folk.' Inara threatened to stay behind with them. Simon argued that he just used good drugs on them, only to kill them? That didn't make much sense. And the still and silent River Tam pierced through them all with a devil-raising scream.

Daryl, Glen, Maggie, and Rick stood and drew their weapons before the scream stopped.


	3. Chapter 3

***Disclaimer: Still not my characters, setting, 'Verse, etc... Please don't sue. All I have to give is ... nope.. even my laptop is borrowed. :) **

** Still not Beta'd.**

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She knew they were coming. She sensed them, she sensed _him_. What River didn't sense, however, was the floods of grief that would pool off the entire group. She'd lost consciousness when she sensed the break in time, even though it was a full week before the incident. The crashes of these new emotions, though, were enough to jolt her from her coma.

It was grief, terror, guilt all spinning and webbing between the new crewmates. A lost mother, a lost brother-in-law, a horrific loss of a daughter, a betrayal, a brother left for dead, a patriarch lost – all the waves of death and blame blasted her in a wash of shadows of memories and stabs of emotions.

"Stop!" she cried out and slid from the exam table, trying to hide behind it.

"Try to stop thinking whatever you're thinking," the doctor instructed them.

"They can't. It's not them," she gasped for air as she tried building walls up against the barrage.

Rick's crew looked to each other, then to the crew of Serenity for answers. They weren't thinking anything they shouldn't have been. What was the doctor raving about? The sharp-dressed space dweller was crouched beside the crazy girl, smoothing her hair and telling her everything would be okay. Maybe they were safer with the walkers. At least they _knew_ the stakes and rules in their own world.

"She's…." Mal started. Rick knew he was holding back, not out of ignorance, but out of distrust.

"She ain't right," Daryl finished for him.

"Off my boat," Mal pointed. Any ounce of him that had compassion for this group was erased. Nobody, and he meant _nobody_ insulted his crew.

"Mal," Inara warned.

"You _know_ she does come off as… unusual to most folks, Cap'n. Let 'em stay," Kaylee pleaded.

Mal paused. His assassin was calming down behind the exam table, and if he cold-blood murdered eight people by leaving them on this moon, his conscience wouldn't let him sleep at night – much less the look on Inara's face right now. "Get us off this rock. I'll deal with you all later. Her name is River. Don't go near her." Mal stormed up the stairs with his pregnant first mate.

"'She ain't right?'" Rick turned to Daryl. "You _had_ to say that?"

"I ain't lyin'."

"You know we're guests here," Rick crossed to speak to him as privately as possible. "You can't go insulting our hosts."

"Yeah. Won't happen again."

"We can all hang out in the cargo bay," the cheerful mechanic sang. "I'm afraid it's a mite boring sometimes, but once we get Captain Grumpy-Pants on our side, we got lotsa games and stuff."

"I don't think he's too keen on being on our side," Rick gave a sideways smile. "What can you teach us that'll make it easier to live once he drops us off somewhere?"

"Drops us off?" Lori stopped him.

"That what he seems keen on doin' doesn't it? Look, at least we don't have to worry about walkers for a little bit it seems. I still think it'll be best if we stick together."

"I tend to agree," T-dog wiped his brow. "I mean, at any time we could be whipped back to Earth and maybe dropped right back where we started. I'm _still_ trying to pinch myself to see if I'm dreaming. If I'm not, I want you all by my side when I get back to Earth."

"What went on down there?" Inara walked with them. "What was Maggie talking about disease? And what are these 'walkers?'"

They exchanges stories and information regarding the outbreak, their group, and their losses; in return they learned of the 'Verse as it stood. Alliance, Independents, reavers, space travel, planets, moons, terra-forming, Companions, and how they all came to be on the Transport, Firefly Class _Serenity._

"What about her?" Daryl nodded back toward the infirmary where Simon was leading a young woman with a hand around her shoulder. She looked at the group, then to the doctor – her long hair flowing against her knitted shirt with every nod of insistence. He couldn't tell what she was saying, but the doctor was blatantly trying to talk her out of it.

"She's… special," Kaylee started.

"Sure am," she broke from the doctor's grasp. No surprise there, he didn't look like he could hold on to a legless kitten. "I am Alliance trained. They messed with my brain. Now I can kill with my bare hands, wield any weapon handed me. But now there's something wrong with my brain. I get waves of people's thoughts if I don't concentrate not to. And my brain now picks up on the future, the past," she twitched violently as she passed Carol. "I am so sorry," River melted from her charging storytelling and boldly hugged the grieving mother, "she is with angels now. I know." River stepped back, clutching her stomach as a wave of nausea passed over her from the blast of sorrow from Carol at the mention of her daughter.

"Watch what you say," Daryl barked at her and wrapped a protective arm around Carol. They were the same age, but she was so much like his mother. He couldn't help his mom back then, but watching Carol triumph over her worthless dickhole of a husband – he wished he could have seen his mother triumph like that. She died of an overdose before she ever got her revenge. He saw so much of his mother in Carol. The 12-year old boy that was helpless back then was all grown up, and hell if anyone was going to touch this woman, physically or mentally, while he was on watch.

"It was meant to be a comfort," the large brown eyes of the crazy girl glassed with tears that surprised her. His words stung. For weeks _he_ had flooded her with images, feelings, glimpses – and his first words to her weren't the soft comforts she'd imagined they'd be. They were harsh and threatening. They were not an invitation but a warning. "I'm sorry," the corners of her mouth twitched down and she retreated back to her brother.

"That was a little harsh," Glenn said. Inara noticed the entire group had a chemistry between them that was either like siblings or lovers. There was a comfort with open opinions, an ease with the truth that none of them shied away from. They were so _different_ from her crew. Mal with his shifting temperaments, Zoe with the stone walls she'd built around her heart, Simon with his propriety and pretense – they all held faults that they tried to hide from those they were intended to be the most intimate with. They considered each other family, but didn't _live_ like it. She drank in the laid back exchange between the new crew.

"It's a little harsh bringin' up things we try to forget," Daryl countered.

"I don't want to forget," Carol corrected him with a strong but grateful glance. "I want to remember her every day. She deserves it."

The tears in Lori's eyes and the clenched jaws of Daryl, Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog told the story of how fresh this loss was to them.

"She does," Daryl agreed with her finally with a brotherly squeeze and let her go. She was definitely stronger than his own mother. Definitely.

"You're gonna feel a little queasy as we switch from planetary gravity to artificial gravity. Just want to warn you," Kaylee chimed right before they felt the ship break atmo and switch on all the necessary functions.

"We can stop off on Beaumonde in about 27 hours. You'll find something to do there, I'm sure," the Captain called over from the catwalks and disappeared again.

"I'll talk to him," Inara rolled her eyes and strolled away.

If there was one thing she could _count_ on Malcolm Reynolds being, it was stubborn. Inara wasn't backing down on this, however. Since they'd lost Shepard Book and Wash, there was too much work and not enough hands. Sure, eight people would make their crew a bit on the large side – but with their talents and skills surely they could earn their keep.

"You busy?" she knocked on the door to the bridge.

"Depends on if you're here to negotiate. I don't want them on my ship, Inara."

"For a man so hell bent on maintaining humanity you seemed to have drained it from yourself."

"What would you have me do?" he crossed to the threshold and grabbed her shoulder. "Huh? I can't feed our 6 mouths much less add eight more to that."

"You think they wouldn't help? Have you even asked them? They show up from another time on a different planet, no credits, no knowledge of our world now and you're going to set them loose on _Beaumonde_? Mal, I don't have to tell you that's a terrible thing to do."

"It's not a morality issue, it's purely economics. I can't afford them."

"I'm not asking you to. Think about it. They have all these 'Earth-That-Was' artifacts. Remember the Lassiter and how much that would bring. Think of any one of their guns or probably half the contents of the packs they are carrying. What if it wasn't a money issue? Would you let them stay?"

"It would be a mark in their favor." He _did_ remember the Lassiter. After causing a ruckus of trouble, it _had_ turned a pretty penny. That was an old artifact but not even from Earth-That-Was. Maybe they _could_ earn their keep.

Mal slumped into the pilot's chair when she left. When he woke that morning he didn't plan on being attacked by reavers, he didn't plan on an entire hoard of people appearing from another time and planet relying on him to bring them up to speed, accept them, and shelter them. But here he was. The pantry was low, the fuel cell was waning, jobs were scarce because their profile was too high for smugglers and thugs to rely on them. This new crew could either be an answer to his lengthy prayers of late, or they could be his complete destruction.

He watched the stars rotate outside his window. He knew some by name, others he had named himself in the months, _years_ he'd spent studying his sky. No matter how crazy the 'Verse was, no matter how crazy his _ship_ became – the stars were still his. That had to count for something.

"Nothing bad will come of this," her haunting voice danced behind him. He didn't know how she'd slipped from Simon's watchful eyes, but River Tam always had her ways. "In fact they will make everything better."

"You know that for a fact, little one?"

"You know I do." She took her spot at the co-pilot's seat and watched the stars with him. "Tango-65, a Red Dwarf, 38.4 light-years away. You call her Nelda after a trusty steed back on your home planet. The steed that helped you run away and join the Independents. Tango-65 is your guiding star. Even if it takes us slightly off course you like to have her in your window at least once a day."

"What's your point, River?"

"That I know you. I know you better than you know you sometimes, and I know you don't just want to drop them somewhere. So don't."

"My first mate disagrees."

"Your first mate is a grieving widow with gestational hormone imbalances."

"You're saying I shouldn't trust her warning?"

"I'm saying you should trust your gut."

"Okay, you stay," Mal dropped, heavy-footed down the stairs to the cargo bay. "It wasn't without some willful convincing by Inara and River, so you make sure to thank them when you get the chance. I don't have enough provisions, you will all have to earn a keep. We do shady business and smuggling. Any problems with that, I can still make a swing by Beaumonde."

"He makes it sound worse than it is. He's more of a delivery man."

"We all have stains on our hand. What is it you would have us do?" Rick bit the tongue of the part of him that was still a cop at heart.

"I can always use gun hands, muscle. Jayne's getting old," he smiled as his current mercenary joined them.

"I am not."

"Whoever doesn't like to fight, you can cook, clean. If any of you have items, especially guns you don't mind parting with those may be enough to set us pretty for a good long time."

"Guns?" Daryl asked. Surely technology had evolved and guns weren't a black market commodity. It'd be a hell of a deal if they landed in a universe where guns weren't allowed. He'd almost want to be back on Earth.

"Yeah. The old styles like yours, especially if they can be dated back to Earth-That-Was are worth a pretty penny."

"Give him the bag," Rick nudged Glenn.

"These are some guns we've pulled off walkers as we've killed them. We don't really use any of them. I can't guarantee if they work, but we've cleaned most of them already. Don't cut yourself then touch any of this blood."

Mal looked into the bag of old Earth-That-Was artifacts. It hit him that these people were his ancestors. People from a time gone by on a planet he would never see. They had seen true trees and oceans not manufactured by man, witnessed weather systems that developed on their own, and they probably had never been in space. Ever.

"Jayne, put these in the armory. We have a few rules we have to go over, but welcome to Serenity."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Still not beta'd. Thanks to everyone who'd favorited or commented. Literally makes my day. Keep giving me input I love it. A note: I realize now that there are 10 characters from Earth, not 8. Oops. I will fix that when I have a better internet connection. :) Otherwise. Hope you enjoy. I'm verbose and this story will probably end up being rather long. If it's not moving fast enough though, let me know. :)**

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"I have been a patient man long enough," the words oozed like leprous sores from the wrinkled lips of the man known as Niska. "The rebuilding is almost complete. I have adequate facilities for Malcolm Reynolds and his crew."

The rebuilding had taken longer than Niska wanted, but his specifications had been demanding and his attention to detail drew the intricate plans out even further. This new space station had been designed with one thing in mind. Revenge.

Long, twisting, and winding halls were meant to disorient his _visitors_. Insulated walls were meant to keep the screams from disturbing his crew, but the walls between each holding chamber were paper thin so the crew of the Serenity would be able to hear each other scream just fine. Each room had been fitted with the newest and most sinister tools of electro-torture, hydro-torture, pain torture, and finally fatal torture. The psychological torture was contained all within him; and the man, humiliated and defeated, had practiced his revenge for a long, long time. The crew of the Serenity would have done better just to let their captain die all those months ago.

"You find this ship, _Serenity._ You bring me all of her crew. Alive."

* * *

"You want some help with that?" Lori waddled to the kitchen counter next to Inara. The Companion was so exotic, so beautiful and a heck of a cook too. Their meager supply of canned fruit, beans, tuna, and green beans had been welcomed just as eagerly as her own crew had panted over the promise of a stove. It meant pasta, potatoes, and cooked meat.

"I would _love_ some help, but only if you're up to it," her eyes widened as she glanced at Lori's ballooned belly.

"I've dreamt of a real kitchen for_ months._" Lori dove in and began quartering potatoes.

"So, tell me what it's like to be married."

Where had that question come from? Lori wanted to sear her with a glare that would stop all questions like this, but there was desperation in the beautiful eyes that made Lori sheathe her wrath. What were the woman's eyes pleading? Did the whore wish to give-up her ways and commit to one man? Still, did she have to dive into the question so boldly? Truth was, Lori knew she didn't know of the turmoil hat plagued her marriage of late. How different this question would have been two years ago. It had been an eternity since Rick had come home, bear-hugged his son, then wrapped arms around her like nothing in the world could ever come between them. He'd make small talk aloud about what was for supper or how did Carl do in school, then he'd whisper what was really on his mind into wife's ear. His husky words and promises had been her saving light.

"When it's good, it's great," a whisper from her own lips broke her reverie.

"And when it's bad?" Inara strategically pried.

"Then it will kill you."

Inara let the subject go, but Lori knew they'd revisit it. The Companion, as observant as she was beautiful, had seen the pain and the guilty and shame. She wanted to be annoyed, but it was going to be good to talk to someone who hadn't seen her whole soap-opera play out, one terrible decision after another.

"Hey," Carl strutted into the kitchen, "Mom, are you okay?"

"Yeah, baby," Lori patted away the dampness swelling her eyes, "I'm just so relieved to be here."

"Yeah, it's like back home."

Inara smiled at the growing young man. If Lori would count her blessings, this little boy had to account for at least a couple handfuls. He handled a gun almost as well as Jayne, he watched over his mama, and he was the best little right hand man for his pa. Carl was polite, strong, courageous – everything boys his age should be. They really _did_ raise them right back in the day.

"Honey," Lori swatted him with a towel, "tell everyone to wash up for supper."

"He's such a great kid," Inara smiled.

"I'm losing him to the world," Lori faked a smile back. "After he killed a walker the other day, he stabbed it in the head again, and I saw this _look_ in his eyes. A blood lust that not even Daryl possesses."

"He's lost a lot?"

"Not compared to some of the others."

"The others have the calluses of time. Every emotion he emits is unbridled because of his youth. Lori, you _can't_ see that as a bad thing. It seems like he's losing his humanity, but that's really the very thing he's clinging to. Are you sure there's not a loss he's struggling with?"

They'd lost a _lot_ of people, how could she know?

"You need to ask him."

* * *

Supper was marvelous. The crewmembers of Serenity were the only people in this time that had eaten real food from Earth-that-Was. Food grown on the Mata-terra herself, nourished by pure Earth soil. Rick's crew finally got hot food with side dishes and wine. Carl's appreciation of the drink had not improved since their stint at the C.D.C. in Atlanta.

The crew was large enough that some had to sit the lounge area and eat from the coffee table. Jokes were exchanged, lessons, stories from their lives. Everyone looked at Carl when they learned of the time Rick hunted around the whole house for his car keys and it wasn't until they changed Carl's diaper that they found the keys. The crew joined in a healthy laugh as Rick reenacted finding his keys, covered in 'more of Carl than I ever wanted to take with me.'

"Didn't that ruin the powerboard?" Kaylee laughed.

Seven pair of eyes sought the answer while the other eyes looked as confused as Ricks. "The power… what's that?"

"Well on your keys, the part that reads the computer of the vehicle."

"Kaylee," Carol smiled at the mechanic, they'd had a good talk earlier and she was now a friend deserving of smiles, "we're from 500 years ago, we stuck a piece of metal in a hole and twisted. That's how we start cars."

"Remind me not to let them near the hovercraft," Mal pointed and the crew took up their raucous laughter.

"You guys have a hovercraft?!" Carl jumped up from the coffee table. Lori looked back from the table to her son, the boyish eyes that had lit up for so many Christmases, birthdays, and first days of school now shined again. It was like an old fluorescent bulb trying to come on. The flickers of hope were there, amidst the pools of black – but the hope was flickering back to life. She turned back to the table to catch Inara's knowing glimpse and felt a kindred spark she hadn't known in quite some time.

* * *

"Carl," Lori ruffled his hair, "you help Kaylee and Carol with clean-up."

"Yeah," Kaylee added, "and if we get it done real quick, I can show you the engine. I even need to re-prime the lubrication system. Wanna help me with that too?"

River frowned at Lori's hopeful conquest to bring her son back from a very dark place he had gone. It was going to be a part of him forever. He'd loved the young girl, Carol's daughter. At first she was his best friend. She was righteous where he was mischief, she was understanding where he was rash, she was accepting where he was bitter. She'd been his first crush, and he'd placed the weight of his entire world on his shoulders when she went missing. He was happy he got shot looking for her, it would be a reminder of the girl _forever._ When she came from the barn, wearing the rainbow shirt he'd helped her pick out the day she went missing, his heart – his _faith_ had broken that day.

River turned to retreat to her room, it was too difficult being around _him. Daryl, _she'd have to get used to his name. She couldn't just ingnore him being so cold and distant. It wasn't anything like the readings she'd pulled from him. Maybe it'd take time for him to warm to her but for now she couldn't bear being around him.

She descended the stairs, pulling strings of thoughts from every member of the new crew. Rick held disbelief and hope, T-dog was pretty sure he was still dreaming, Glenn and Maggie didn't care where they were as long as they had somewhere they could sneak off to, Beth – River clutched the railing to steady herself and gasped for air. Beth wished for death, waited for it, and loathed every time someone saved her from it. She showed remorse the first time she'd tried it and she'd been half truthful. She wasn't ready to die just then, but sleepless nights and constant running had been able to tear her down. She was tired. It was too hard to live, death was easier.

"But don't you see?" River didn't remember walking to the cargo bay to Beth, "The tests of life are what make our triumphs so sweet?"

"And all this time I thought it was trim," Jayne strutted down to move some cargo that Mal wanted in another hold.

Daryl, having agreed to help the muscle rolled his eyes at the over-sexed man-beast. The man named Jayne reminded him a lot of some of the fellows back home. Flesh and booze and guns and money – that's all any of this type ever had on their mind. Daryl didn't much have time for it. When he thought of flesh he pictured a soft body warming the bed next to him, sheets draped over curves meant for his hands and his alone. Booze lowered his guard too much for him to partake of it too often, guns were just extensions of his body. He didn't need the newest or the fanciest. All bullets killed the same if you aimed at the right places. He prized his aim more than his guns. And as for money, well that hadn't mattered in some time back on Earth. It was going to be hard to get used to paying for things again. Jayne had nothing in common with him so he was here to help the large oaf move some crates, then it was back to doing what he did best, minding his own business.

River watched his deltoids glide, his biceps engorge, and his chest flex as they lifted crates from the floor storage to the side walls. The Captain was going to make the larger floor hold into another room as there weren't quite enough to fill to hold the 10 extra people. T-dog and Daryl would share this hold. River wanted to reach out, brush the sweat from his neck, from his brow like she'd pictured a thousand times. Instead she watched him move his pack and drop it into his new lodgings. He reached to his bow but she grabbed it first.

"Hey," his jaw set against words that he couldn't lash a young woman like her. "Put that down."

"Everyone gets scared when she hold weapons," she looked confused, "I mean when _I_ hold weapons," she turned and fired and arrow at Jayne catching the paper he was running up to Mal and pinning it to a wooden crate behind him, four inches away from the six inches Jayne treasured most in the entire 'Verse.

Jayne turned to roar and break the small assassin. She'd hand his ass back to him before he had a chance to lay a single blow, but he was going to give it a hell of try. Until he saw her brows crinkle, her eyes widen and fill with tears, and that grimace that he'd learn to read not-so-long ago. There wasn't a wail or a cry that came along with this vision, she just crumpled to the floor.

"Get her to the infirmary," he shouted at Daryl as he caught her. Jayne ran up the stairs, three at a time to retrieve Simon. He hated this feeling, something bad was about to happen – that girl was nothing if not a damned accurate barometer.

Jayne paced while Simon tended to River. Back and forth, up stairs, down stairs, in circles, in lines, along the windows to the infirmary, around his own bunk, alone, with the others – Jayne paced.

* * *

When River woke she walked past everybody looking after her. She left Simon gawking, Jayne pacing, Inara praying – and she marched to the bridge to the Captain.

"Niska is searching for us. I don't know if he'll find us."

"You don't know?"

"They haven't made any decisions that will lead them to us yet, so as of right now they will not find us. If they change their mind on any number of topics, and sets a plan into motion – I will be able to detect it. They just haven't done that yet."

"Well, you keep me informed," he demanded, as obvious as it was.

"When will we be on land again?"

"Tomorrow," Mal said, "Haymer, despite me taking his precious Lassiter, couldn't resist the thought of two Earth-the-Was artifacts. Plus it helped when I threw Saffron, Yolanda – whoever, under the bus and told him we still have the Lassiter."

"We do?" how had she not seen that?

"We do. I had it safe guarded with Book. When you were making Serenity into a reaver ship I found his locker and got it back."

"My Captain, My Captain," River beamed, "No power in the 'Verse…" She skipped back to her room, smiling at Daryl and Simon on the way. She'd sleep until they were on land. She always loved being on land.

* * *

The sun rose as River lounged on the top of Serenity. She woke moments before they landed and climbed out the top airlock as Mal touched down. The moons were casting silver and purple shadows that a soft pink sun was beginning to erase. This was a warm planet. Coastal and temperate she had stretched into the wind and danced with it before taking a seat to take spectacle of a sunrise. She knew her Captain had pushed Serenity in a harder burn than he normally would have just to give her a sunrise. She basked in it as the sun painted the bottom of the wispy clouds while the night still owned the tops of them. A few of the brightest stars begged for attention as the sun erased the weaker ones from the sky.

"Talked to your brother last night," a rasp that was already familiar to every cell in her body came from the airlock door, "you have a history with getting in trouble touching weapons."

"I _am _a weapon," her mood soured. She was 18, more capable of wielding weapons than any other crew member, but they still thought she was too unstable. She was nearly episode-free and had been weaning off her medication for a few weeks now.

"Be that as it may," he climbed the ladder and knelt beside her looking at her and expecting her to do the same. He was blocking the sun. "If I'm taken back to my time without my bow, I'll be dead in a week."

"You can't go back to your time without conscious knowledge of it. And no you wouldn't, with your skills you would survive almost a year."

"What do you mean we can't go back…"

"You get sunrises all the time," she snapped. "I get them once, maybe twice a month, can you please let me enjoy this?" The sunrise was only part of it, this was the man that should be lying next to her, pushing her hair from her face and keeping her warm with his body. Instead, he was out here yelling at her. He could just go inside until he took his big head out of his _pi gu._

"Your brother also said you could be difficult at times. Your brother underestimates you," he snarled.

"Make sure you don't do the same," she glared and sent him down the airlock with a flick of her eyes.

_Great,_ she pouted, _the sun's erased all the stars already. What a fei fei duh piyen. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. They belong to the networks, writers, creators, etc... of which they are affiliated.**

**Not Beta'd. Mistakes are mine. Feel free to point them out so I can fix them. :)**

* * *

Bellerophon was sympathetic to the Alliance, that was its only down side. Bellerophon was a water world, more ocean than land. Beautiful sunsets mirrored off of gently rolling waters that ebbed and flowed in a tranquil and unending rhythm. What land there was had become an arid desert through the course of terra-forming, but in a narrow swath along the border was a costal plain that stretched for endless miles. Hundreds of yards reached north and south along the edge of the water in a blanket of finely ground sand that was occasionally pock marked with jutting crags of sharp rocks. Her feet squished between the champagne sands and the waves raged like a war zone against the beach. Salt and suntan oil soaked the air as River bathed in the natural UV rays. She was able to fully turn her mind off of the others' thoughts and focus on what they were really saying.

"Did you ever think we'd be sitting on a beach again?" Lori was still in disbelief.

"A beach on a whole 'nother planet," Carl fidgeted as his mom put sun block on him.

"No walkers." Carol and Maggie sighed at the same time.

"No Merle, either," Daryl snarled as he trotted by, still carrying that blasted crossbow. "Funny how easy you all can just forget a whole human being."

"He's still alive," River stated evenly. Even her interjections into _normal_ conversations were tainted with all she knew as a reader, "in your time; in 2014. If you choose to go back you _may_ find him." What she had said now horrified her. Why couldn't her mouth ever stop itself? Any hope she'd had that he'd remain here with her flew out the window. She felt it wave off of him as soon as she had finished her sentence.

"There's a way to get back?"

She furrowed her brow and shook her head as she turned away from him.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you," he crouched in front of her. "Do you know how I can get back to Earth?"

"Daryl," Carol bristled behind River, "don't you like it here?"

"I can't just leave my brother. I got kin. I can't just forget him. You know something 'bout gettin' back?"

There was a break in the fabric of space-time that lingered just inside the cargo bay in _Serenity._ It was high enough off the ground that one couldn't just _stumble_ into it, but it was there – a portal back to Earth. 500 years away from her. She didn't want to tell anybody. She hadn't even told her brother, her Captain, or her best friend. There was a way he could leave her. How could she willingly give him that information? But how could she keep it from him either? Just like Simon was all she really had; his brother was the only thing Daryl could really call family.

"I will tell you how to go back," River announced, "but you must take me with you to find your brother."

"No," the entire group spat in unison. Mal and Rick weren't there to weigh in, but it was pretty clear that would have been their reaction as well if they weren't off trying to sell 'old' weapons to the very man Mal had tried to rob barely a year ago.

"River," Simon stopped building his sand castle, "you would risk me losing _my_ mei mei so you can go save _Merle._"

"I will find his brother and bring everyone back."

"What if there _is_ no way back? You told me you saw a portal, are you sure it's back to 2014? What if it goes somewhere even stranger and there's no way back?"

She couldn't explain, yet, that life without Daryl was going to be strange and terrible for her. She may as well be cast in a portal – lost to the cosmos. If Daryl wasn't going to be in her life it would be an inescapable prison. She'd caught the waves from him, even over the 500 year gap and it told of their future. She would have nights pondering the stars, days loving the suns, shared joys, carnal passions. Feelings she had _never_ felt before had been strong enough to erase even the laws of time. Now they wanted her to just hand him over to some family ties born solely of blood. Merle never earned Daryl's devotion; Daryl just gave it freely as baby brothers are supposed to.

"You will take a walk with me, Daryl Dixon. I have things to tell you," River stood and demanded. "Then you can return to Earth."

* * *

"This is a fine piece of weaponry," Haymer exhaled.

"Thank you, it's been in my family for quite some time now," Rick flashed a smile laced with practiced southern-boy charm.

"There's blood on it," Haymer furrowed his brow, "has it been in use?"

"No, that's 500 year old blood."

"There's no way that's possible."

"It's true," Rick nodded, "it's been locked up tight and never opened until my son accidentally found my safe."

"He was able to break in? Quite a skilled theft for a young boy. Do you think the company you keep is best for the child?" Haymer raised an eyebrow at Malcolm Reynolds.

"Oh, come now," Mal hooked his thumbs in his suspenders, "Yolanda, Saffron – whoever she is, played the lot of us. I was just dumb enough to get duped twice."

"I do appreciate having the Lassiter back."

"It was only right."

"This blood confounds me, gentlemen," Haymer began to pace. "Nothing was allowed off of Earth-That-Was with blood on it. This can't be from Earth."

"Why?"

"They made everybody send everything they owned through a bio-scanner that tested for any blood before they were allowed to the moon." Haymer was confused by the bewildered look on the men's faces. "Oh don't tell me you believe that 'our numbers were too many' hogwash." Haymer eyes twinkled with delight. He had a fresh audience to share his knowledge with. He'd spent years, _decades_ studying where they came from and what happened on the mother planet; he was excited to regale them with history. Mal and Rick accepted a seat on a sofa that looked out a window over all of his estate. "When we left Earth-That-Was, it wasn't because of over-population, quite contrary in fact. Only a _few thousand_ made it to the ships. Did you know that first they had to stop off and live on the moon for near a century because they didn't have the technology to come all the way out here? Luckily, only the best and the brightest survived so research and development grew in strides. The Chinese had a space program that was still functional, and so did the United States, that why those cultures are the two main influences in the 'Verse today. You can tell that a few other nationalities made it. The British, Scots, Irish, Russian, Middle Eastern – those were all people who had immigrated to America or China though. Any others left on Earth when the ship left – well, I bet it was fairly bleak.

"You see, a virus had broke out. It brought the dead to life, it killed the living – just to bring them back to life too. When they came back, though, they weren't people. They were animals with a hunger for human flesh. They didn't die easily but they killed with a single scratch. That's why, all the bloody weapons and knives and the like were cleansed before being allowed over. They actually had a radioactive oven that 'baked' the virus off of everything, all the people had to go through a detox chemical shower. It was not the best time for humanity."

"Haymer," Rick rubbed a shaky hand over his forehead, "what if the virus was reintroduced?"

"It would be a 'Verse wide devastation."

"Mal," Rick whispered an apology into his hand. "That's why I didn't want to clean the gun off on the ship if you have recycled water. What if it's too late and I've alre…"

"This isn't blood from Earth, it _can't_ be," Haymer stood his ground.

"It is."

"You're mistaken son, I'm sorry."

"All of the people were infected," Rick worried aloud, "even if they died of natural causes, they would rise again. It was in the air, the water, the food." The awful realization hit him that even though they travelled to a better time, they could bring the same destruction on this new society just by being there. The virus _lived_ inside of them, it was polluting the air even as they spoke. "How did they rid the living of the virus?" Rick frantically searched Haymer for answers.

"On the moon they found the cure."

"And they didn't go back to Earth and cure the population?"

"It wasn't simple like just dispersing it in the air, it requires a round of five shots every two weeks and it was painful to rid of."

"Do they still have the formula? For the anti-virus?"

"I'm sure it's on file somewhere."

"I need it," Rick was almost shaking with joy, "Mal, we need that."

Mal looked to the heavens and beseeched the God that had brought him his miracle, to make his _miracle_ shut his mouth and stop rambling like a buffoon.

"Haymer, that blood is from Earth-That-Was, do you have a bio-container to keep it in?"

"I'm telling you it's not possi…"

"Haymer," Mal barked, "I trust you as much as you trust me, which I can imagine leaves us both in a quandary of how to always keep one eye on each other, ,but let me just say that there are secrets in the air right now that I don't plan on betraying until I have some proof from you that I can count on you not to turn my man here and his crew in. You need to get that gun into a bio-container. Then we need to talk."

"I don't like dealings with you, Malcolm Reynolds. I don't like them one bit."

* * *

Daryl's eyes travelled where she expected them to as she adjusted her bikini top and slung a wrap around her waist, three inches lower than it needed to be. The harsh thoughts that swarmed in his head toward her subsided for a brief moment, until he caught himself leering at a 'little girl' and shoved his unwarranted malice to the forefront again.

"First," she said in a low voice as they walked away from the group, "stop calling me a little girl – even in your head. I'm of age and have been through more than most people go through in their entire lives. Please. Stop. Calling. Me. Little. Girl."

"Fine," he hissed, the rumble of the word getting caught deep in his throat like a dangerous purr.

"Thank you for allowing me this time," she turned to him. His tanned chest had grains of the sand stuck to it so he shimmered like a golden god. The sunlight glinted off of his hair bathing him in an ethereal light that hinted that he just _may_ be an angel. She began this conversation very cautiously, "I wanted to talk with you about…"

"About what?" the edge to his voice wasn't making things any easier for her.

"Your crew would like you to stay, that doesn't matter to you?"

"No. They ain't my blood kin."

"Merle is," River agreed. "You know I'm a reader, right? Do you know what a reader is?" His silence was enough of an answer for her. "It means that my brain was messed with until they unlocked the other 90% of it that nobody ever uses. That 90% can tap into frequencies that nobody else can feel or sense. It makes me a hell of a fighter, radar, _psychic_ if you will. Your brother is still alive right now. If you go back, you may never find him, but I guarantee you that you will die. Not by a walker either." She would say no more. His brother was going to betray him and lead him to his death, just for higher standing in a false society. Merle was going to make it off Earth, Daryl wouldn't. Those were things Daryl didn't need to know.

"How do I die? When?"

"I can't tell you. I don't know. I caught only glimpses of it. Another human betrays you. Do you know what else I felt?"

"You're askin' these questions like I care, little girl."

An apology was forced to his eyes when River glared through his toughest defenses. "I felt rough, calloused hands pull me," she tugged him behind a boulder and natural rise in the sand. She couldn't see the group any longer. "I felt a breath against my ear," she whispered and ran feather-light fingertips over her neck. "I saw blue eyes answer my pleas, tan skin flush my pale skin. I _know_ you feel it too," she challenged, "that's why you distance me with hateful words."

His eyes betrayed him. They wanted to be fierce, loathing, and cold; but he was caught so off guard by how perfectly she'd pinpointed every detail of things he had been imagining. Only he'd seen brown eyes steal his soul with a single look, pale skin blush at his touch. He wanted to reach out right now, claim the haunt of his latest dreams and make the apparition come to life beneath his very fingers. Too bad he was Daryl Dixon and didn't let things of desire distract him. "I can't just leave my brother," he offered a weak excuse.

"The brother that would leave you after school to walk home alone? Four miles through town and through _your_ trailer park would frighten most adults, you were _six_. You can't leave a life of painful memories to stay here and create a life anew? Full of better memories?" River teasingly toyed the waist of her wrap that was dancing on the very edge of her hips.

_Better memories? That won't be hard. Life anew?_ It sounded better than he'd expected it to. His eyes held steady against her provocation and, even though her words were enticing, most of his instincts told him to run. The parts of him controlled by corruptible emotions held him steadily to the ground. Merle _had _been awful, and did it really make him a bad person to want to hold firm to this better life? Did it make him a bad person that he wanted to hold firm to this little g … this _woman_?

She watched him relax and she saw the gears of thought turning behind his calculating eyes.

Then she saw the red dot between his eyebrows.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I just noticed that a couple chapters ago I said Mal sold the Lassiter. Then last chapter I said he gave it back to Haymer. (I'M TOTALLY FIRING MY CONTINUITY PERSON! ... oh wait! That's me!) :/ OOPS So - going forward in the story I'm going under the idea that he ****_didn't_**** sell it and it's a negotiating chip with Haymer. There. Settled. :)**

**Oh... and I still own none of the characters, the 'Verse, - I'm using my parents' computer while I'm home for a few days - so I don't even own the computer this part was written on. :) Ok... without further ado -**

"If you can get us twenty doses of the anti-virus and something to clean a water supply, you will not only save humanity as we know it," Mal reasoned with Haymer, "but that pistol there will be yours. There are more where it came from. Do you understand what I'm saying."

"A portal finally opened didn't it?" Haymer's eyes clouded as he tried recalling report that he'd read over the last few years. There were 'disruptions' in the fabric of time and space and scientists couldn't make sense of it. If there was any chance at successfully completing time-travel, these disruptions would prove to be the perfect place. Apparently fate beat science and now viruses, doom, and even more unimaginable wealth laid before him.

"A portal?" Mal tucked his head back in shock. "Yeah. That's what I would call it." _How did he know?_

"Let me talk to my contacts. Don't empty your water tank or let anybody in natural water sources."

"They're at the beach right now, but we've already discussed not touching anything we don't have to. Including the ocean," Rick drawled. Haymer couldn't believe he didn't hear it earlier. Nobody had an authentic 'southern' drawl like that anymore.

Haymer smiled at Rick. It seemed Malcolm Reynolds kept _some_ rational and responsible people around him. Haymer promised to make the necessary contacts and that the Alliance would probably want to meet with and debrief everybody so they could study the phenomena better.

"I won't let them be held and tested. They're not lab-rats now."

"I will make that abundantly clear."

"I will run. Then we will contaminate what we need to and you will have an even larger problem. They won't take them all at once. I only feel safe letting them have two at a time."

"I will have them contact you directly and you can talk to them. You really do have a way of making everything complicated."

* * *

"Hey," Daryl waved his hands above his head and tried to get the attention of the group about 200 meters up shore. His voice was slowly coming back to him after being winded by River. She's tossed him to the ground, yelled instructions while she rolled them away from more gunfire. Then she threw sand to cover his escape while she provided cover and a distraction. Everything in him chastised himself for letting a little girl… _woman_ take a fall for him. She'd been very demanding in her instructions to him and she'd assured him that if he was taken as well – then things would be even worse for both of them.

"Get help. Mention Niska."

He didn't know what it meant, but he needed to get back to the group as fast as possible. Air finally seeped into the deepest part of his lungs allowing him a full breath and that was all he needed. His doubled-over advance turned into a full run. Plumes of sand spat underneath his feet and it was Kaylee that noticed him first. He caught up with her just as she saw the shuttle take off behind him.

"What happened? Where's River?"

"She…" he gulped for air, "said mention 'Niska.' Does that mean anything?"

He got his answer when all the blood drained from the mechanic's face. Fear, the first since they'd come to this new time, seated itself at the base of his spine and churned a putrid premonition in the pit of his stomach.

"Did I hear something about Niska?" Jayne covered the remaining 20 meters in what seemed like two strides. "Where's River?"

"They took her. She made me come back here. Who's Niska?" Daryl finally asked.

"Zoe," Jayne yelled at the first mate and they finally walked up to the rest of the group, "we have a problem."

"Who's Niska?" Daryl repeated.

"Now how does he know that name?" Zoe asked.

"He's got River."

* * *

"Sir," Mal's comm unit erupted with Zoe's voice, "you are needed back at ship. Now."

"Um, Zoe. This is a bad time."

"Niska took River."

That statement was enough to stop all the men in the room.

"_The_ Adelai Niska has a crew member of yours? What on Earth-That-Was did she do to cross him?"

"She didn't do anything. I did. And at the time she wasn't even technically a crew member."

"That's unlike Niska. He's taking some awful drastic measures."

"Oh, I'm sure he feels like he has a score to settle."

"It was _you_ that took his space station a few months back wasn't it?"

"Is there anything that you _don't_ hear about?"

"You harbor the Tam twins were wanted for the Miranda broad wave until miraculously your wanted status was suddenly overturned."

"So you don't know how?"

"River Tam is quite the little genius isn't she?"

Too close. Haymer was too close. How did he know all of this? Why was he holding his cards so close?

"You stole from me," Haymer looked at Mal as if this should have been as plain as day. "Aren't you the largest advocate of 'know thy enemy?'"

"Are we still enemies?" Mal wanted to know his hand. Did he have a full house of vengeance? Did he have an Ace hidden up his sleeve for just the right time? Whose side was he on?

"We'll never be friends. But no, we are not enemies. We are comrades. We have a singular goal of keeping this 'Verse free of the virus _they_ carry. Killing them won't work – after they come back to life and we kill them again, they'll just infect the ground, water. Plus I like this Rick fellow. I'd much rather see them live. So don't fight me, Mal. I have enough pull that I can make this run smoothly. I require the lassiter, the pistol, and if you could run other items by me I require one more token for my part in helping you. Then we can negotiate pricing on the rest."

"Fair," Mal jumped.

"Niska just made it a little more complicated. Seems he has no luck at all lately."

Mal's eyebrows posed enough unspoken questions that Haymer continued.

"He took a potential carrier of the virus to his space station. It will have to be completely sterilized."

"You let us get River out of there first."

"As soon as I call the Alliance it'll be a race to see who gets there first. Then you must come directly back here and land on the same spot of beach. I've already had _Serenity_ located so you don't contaminate any other place. A crew will meet you there, sterilize your ship, your crew, the land. They will have thousands and thousands of questions for the Earthlings. Then, once they are done with you, they will be on their way."

"They will leave the Tams alone."

"All that River knew has already been released. There's nothing but vengeance they can seek now. As powerful as it is, she's not worth destroying their reputation further but I will pass along the word."

"Give me a 6 hour head start, then call the Alliance. I have business to finish with Niska."


	7. Chapter 7

**Still not mine. :) This chapter is a little choppy - it's a means to an end. I'm typing the next chapter as we speak :) Again, sorry for the 'choppiness.' =)**

* * *

"Let's go get her," Daryl paced in the cargo bay. "What are we waiting for?"

"We're waiting for a better plan than to just go in guns blazing," Zoe informed the newcomers. "We've already attacked once and he'll be expecting us this time. He's _hoping_ we do something that stupid."

"So what do we do?" Rick asked, sleeves rolled up and ready to get to work.

"Nothing."

All eyes turned to Mal as he voiced his solution.

"Niska wants me. I will message him and let him know I'll accept an even trade. Me for River. He'll have to come here because we're land-locked. Once River is off the space station an Alliance ship waiting nearby will 'sterilize' it."

"Do you think he'll meet you here?" Lori added.

"He's _not_ overly accommodating, but he and I have a complicated relationship. I don't think he'll pass up the oppor…"

Mal was cut off by the shrill alarm that alerted them an WAVE was incoming. Eight feet tripped over themselves, stairs, and each other as Mal, Daryl, Jayne, and Simon raced for the bridge. The race was futile, Daryl didn't know how to answer a WAVE and Jayne and Simon dared not – so it was Mal that was allowed on the bridge first.

Mal hit the button to accept the WAVE and instantly the pruny, snake-eyed face of Adalai Niska filled the console screen. From his slicked-back grey hair, to his wiry, tiny glasses, to the greasy smile smeared across his lips – Daryl found everything about the man revolting.

"He better not touch her," he growled.

"Growin' fond? Got a think for little girls?" Jayne teased maliciously.

"Niska," Mal greeted the screen and everyone else quieted and payed close attention. "You seem to…"

"Before you start," the tinny Russian accent interrupted him from the speakers, "I vuld hate for us to vaste our time so I vill get straight to ze point…"

"You wasted time from the time you took River. Let me see her," Mal demanded.

"I vill do you one better, Captain Reynolds. My men are on zeir vay back to you vith her body."

* * *

Daryl left Mal, Simon, and Jayne on the bridge; all silent and in shock. He stalked down the hall toward the kitchen, his stupor also gripping the deepest parts of him. Carol and Lori waited at the table, watching his slow and calculated steps. Blind to them, his anger broke into a fury of punches against a metal wall of Serenity. Carol gasped as she watched blood start to stream from his knuckles, down his arm, and even causing little pools to trickle down the wall.

"Fuck!" he cried, kicked the spot he's just punched and collapsed against it.

She'd been that anguished at one point, after seeing the babe that she'd raised and tried to protect from the world – shot in the head. By Rick. What had happened that Daryl was full of such grief?

"Daryl," she quietly entered the hall. "What happened?"

"She's dead," he muttered, keeping his hand in his heads. He drew his knees up and rested his elbows on them.

Carol caught a gasp in her throat.

Silence stretched. She had seen him lose people before. First, his brother. She attributed him taking that so well to there still being a glimmer of hope that he was alive. Then they lost Jim, not a big loss to Daryl. Then the names and bodies kept building. Finally when it was Sophia, her beloved daughter – she watched the human part of him fight for something. He wasn't the survivalist anymore, nor was he broken – he was just human. Then she watched him through the loss of Dale, then Andrea, and some of Herschel's people. It got to him now. Death. Like he finally understood how finite it was.

He was realizing the finality of River's loss. What transpired between them that he cared so much? He didn't react like this to Dale or Andrea and he had known them much longer than he'd known River.

"Why is this hitting you so hard?" she immediately wished she could take back her awful question.

"Just leave me alone, please."

* * *

"How did this happen?" Lori watched from the catwalks as Jayne, Daryl, Mal, and Simon carried the box with River's body. She was going straight to the infirmary and first thing tomorrow, Simon was going to do a full autopsy.

"We underestimate Niska," Rick closed a hand over Lori's.

"And now?"

"An Alliance interceptor is en route to eliminate the final ship from the space station. The space station is history and so is Niska.

.

Daryl patted Simon on the back before he walked away in a stupor. One summer, their cousin Hailey-Lyn came and stayed with them while her mom spent a couple months detained for outstanding warrants – nothing too serious. She was younger than Daryl by a couple years, but watching how delicate she was, even full of spit and vinegar like she was she was still so different than a _boy._ He'd felt the need to protect her, watch over her, and make sure nothing bad happened to her. Simon had known River his whole life. Surely he'd had those same protective instincts over her, and that was almost 21 years in the making, not just a measly summer. How he must feel like he failed. The truth was _Daryl_ had failed. He _knew_ she shouldn't go alone – he should have been caught with her. She'd said she'd be alright, that it would be okay if only she went. So he ran, like a little girl.

Still in his stupor, Daryl walked from the infirmary, up the grate-stairs to the bridge and sat in the co-pilot's seat. She'd still had that damn bikini on. Such a light and carefree time had turned so dark, so fast. He gave up his body to mental exhaustion and let fitful slumber take him.


End file.
